


American Pi

by Polrobin



Series: American Pi [1]
Category: Stargate: SG-1
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-15
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polrobin/pseuds/Polrobin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A/N: A day late for Pi Day, but too good an idea to pass up. I smell a series . . . in small parts. In researching the setting for this, I've discovered that all "Pi" days occur right in the midst of the season-ending two-parters. That makes this little story challenging, if we consider "Stargate time" to equate to "real time." So . . . some license is involved herein and this (and any subsequent "Pi" stories will take place before the last episode of each season.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. A Good Day for Pi

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A day late for Pi Day, but too good an idea to pass up. I smell a series . . . in small parts. In researching the setting for this, I've discovered that all "Pi" days occur right in the midst of the season-ending two-parters. That makes this little story challenging, if we consider "Stargate time" to equate to "real time." So . . . some license is involved herein and this (and any subsequent "Pi" stories will take place before the last episode of each season.

A/N: A day late for Pi Day, but too good an idea to pass up. I smell a series . . . in small parts. In researching the setting for this, I've discovered that all "Pi" days occur right in the midst of the season-ending two-parters. That makes this little story challenging, if we consider "Stargate time" to equate to "real time." So . . . some license is involved herein and this (and any subsequent "Pi" stories will take place before the last episode of each season.

As is always the case, I answer all feedback that comes with a respondable address. If you're not sure how to do that, check my main ff dot net page. Special thanks to RegularAmanda for a zippy last-second Beta and to Shannon for the original "Jack would bring pie" prompt.

Set just after _Politics_. GW synopsis: _Senator Kinsey arrives at the SGC to investigate the program and determine whether the great drain on the U.S. budget is worthwhile, prompting the team to recall missions from the past year._

 _  
**It's a Good Day for Pi**   
_

Jack O'Neill stopped in the doorway of his Second's office. He leaned carefully on the doorframe, his hands behind his back, carefully balancing his surprise. Her back was to him, but he could tell by the set of her shoulders that she was still angry. Her movements, normally graceful and full of purpose were jerky, agitated. Fragmented.

She was muttering while she worked, and O'Neill strained to hear what she was saying.

He liked her, he'd realized not to long ago. Well, not _like_ like, but . . . like. Jack mentally shook his head. He confused even _himself_ sometimes. He liked them all, really. His hodgepodge team. The lost boy, the stranger-in-a-strange-land, the beauty with the brains, and . . . him. It wasn't until now, that it was all being taken away, that Jack realized how much they had come to mean to him . . . to _Jack_ , not just to Colonel O'Neill. And maybe . . . just maybe . . . he _like_ liked one member a bit more than the others. A sigh escaped him before he could stop it.

Carter looked up at the noise, turning with a box in her hands. "Sir?" She set the box down and brushed her hands clean on the legs of her BDUs. "Did you need something?"

"Yep." O'Neill lifted himself off of the doorframe and stepped into the room. He kicked the door closed with one foot, still holding his hands behind his back. It was the middle of the night at the SGC and, while he wasn't at all worried about anyone looking in and misconstruing his actions, the Special Operations part of his soul didn't like open doors to empty hallways. Looking around at the disarray of boxes and journals, he asked, "Going somewhere?"

As she quickly cleared a space for him to sit, she studied him. "Um . . . yes? Aren't we all? I mean, Kinsey _has_ shut us down, hasn't he?"

O'Neill nodded. "Sure. Didn't think you'd begin packing so . . ."

"Well, Colonel. It was either that or hit something." Carter shrugged. "This seemed more productive. And less likely to earn me a court-martial."

"Ah."

"Sir? You gonna sit?" Carter again waved him toward the stool she'd cleared, very obviously trying to not look at whatever it was he was holding behind his back.

"Hmm?" Jack gave her a small smile. "Sure."

He slid onto the stool and pulled his hand from behind his back. On the plain white plate sat an enormous slice of apple pie. With a flourish he felt was worthy of only the best restaurants, Jack produced two forks from his breast pocket. From another pocket came napkins. Jack set the plate down, balancing it carefully on a stack of folders. He pushed Carter into the stool adjacent to him and, with a dramatic shake he half-stood and reached to lay the napkin across her lap. As he did so he hesitated, realizing just how . . . not good . . . this position was. He was bent over her, one hand on the table, the other hovering over her lap, his face just inches from hers. Close enough that he could feel her breath on his face, the sensation triggering memories of their time in Antarctica. When she sucked in a startled breath, Jack's eyes snapped up to hers.

"Er . . . sorry. Here." Jack dropped the napkin into Carter's lap and straightened, hastily retaking his own seat. He busied himself with his own napkin, noting the flush that covered his Captain's cheeks.

"Um . . . okay." Sam fidgeted with the napkin in her lap, then looked up at him. "What's the occasion? I'm pretty sure we're not celebrating the SGC being shut down."

Jack slid the pie toward her, silently urging her to try it. "Nope."

Carter only raised an eyebrow as she pushed her fork into the soft, cinnamon-spiced apple filling. She raised the piece to her lips and took a bite, closing her eyes as she did so, clearly savoring the treat.

Jack tried not to notice her reaction to the pie, carefully keeping his attention on his own forkful of sweet goodness.

"Oh, this is good."

"Yep."

She checked her watch and frowned. "From the mess?"

"Nope."

"Where'd it come from?"

"Bakery around the corner from my house." He took another bite. "Brought it in with me this morning . . ." He glanced at the wall clock, noting that it was now nearly one-thirty in the morning. "Okay, yesterday."

"Why?"

" _Why?_ "

"Yes, Colonel." Carter set her fork aside and reached behind her for her coffee. Finding it empty, she rose and poured herself a new cup, then poured a second cup for him. She set his before him and sat again, taking a long, slow sip from her mug. Her eyes stayed on his and her gaze was steady.

Jack shrugged. "It's pi day."

"Pie day?" She looked down at their half-eaten slice. "I didn't realize there was a holiday for pies."

"Not 'pies,' Carter. _Pi_."

Carter stared at him, clearly confused. "Ohhh-kay. Pie. Singular. Um, is it apple pie day?"

"No, Carter." Jack leaned across the corner of the bench, into her space. " _Pi_ day. You know. Three point one four something, something . . ."

"One five nine two six five." Carter added automatically.

Jack stabbed at another piece of the sweet, crumby crust. "Nobody likes a know-it-all, Carter." He softened his comment with a tiny smile and the barest hint of a wink.

Carter ducked her head and grinned, then picked up her fork for another taste of pie. "Yes, Sir."

They silently finished the treat, Jack lost in thought as he realized just how much he'd be losing if Kinsey really did manage to shut down the Stargate program. When the plate was clean he settled back and sipped his coffee, his eyes trailing around the disordered room. He checked his watch and looked up at Carter. Raising his mug in toast, he waited until she did the same. With a gentle tap of his against hers he said, "It's now one fifty-nine so happy Pi day, Carter."

She tilted her head quizzically, then a large grin lit her face. "The date. It's 3/14!"

"And . . ."

"1:59 am." Now the grin became a chuckle and she raised her mug again in salute. "Pi day. Got it."

The grin stayed as they drank silently, and O'Neill found himself enjoying the sparkle of humor and delight in those expressive blue eyes. Enjoying it far more than was good for him. Not, he realized, that it would matter, with the program shutting down. That thought made his own good humor fade and he saw Carter's amusement fade with his.

"Well, I should . . . I mean. You know what, Carter? Leave this. Go to bed. It's past two and we have . . ."

"Nothing to do tomorrow."

Jack stood and watched as she shut down her laptop and began securing her files. He waited for her to finish and then stepped outside with her. She locked the lab and together they walked toward the stairs heading, by mutual accord, for their on-base quarters. Jack let himself enjoy her company as they walked, each lost in their own thoughts.

When they reached Carter's quarters, she opened the door and then paused before stepping inside. She turned and, catching his eyes, said softly, "Thanks, Colonel."

"For what?"

Carter shrugged. "I guess . . . for making it not so bad. Today."

Jack nodded and rocked back on his heels. He hesitated, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers, and finally broke her gaze to study the floor. "It'll all work out, Carter. You'll see." He'd damned well try to make it work out. He planned to corner Hammond in the older man's office later this morning. Realizing she was staring at him, Jack said quietly, "Well, g'night, Carter."

"Sir."

"Hm?"

"We'll . . . you know. We'll have to do this again in July."

"What, the whole plot-to-kill-Kinsey thing?"

Carter's gentle chuckle warmed him, and Jack looked into her earnest gaze. "No, Colonel. July twenty-second. That's 'Pi Approximation Day,' you know."

"Pi Approx–" Jack shook his head. "You're making that up."

"No, Sir."

"Are too."

Carter shrugged and stepped into her room. "Suit yourself, Sir. But if you don't believe me, you'll be missing out on more pie.

"Carter, I _never_ miss pie."

"Then, Sir, it's a date."

She closed her door with a soft 'snick,' leaving Jack standing there, mouth slightly open in surprise. Just what the hell was "Pi Approximation Day?" After a long moment he spun on his heel and strode down the wall to his own quarters. He could look it up, he supposed, but realized it would be much more fun to have Carter tell him.

 _SGC or no SGC, I'm seeing Carter again in four months. For pie._

End.


	2. Approximations of Why

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In writing about Pi Day I discovered that there is actually a "pi approximation day." Apparently, 22.7 is actually a closer approximation of π than 3.14. That would make it, if you flipped the European dating system around, that July 22 is Pi Approximation Day. Thus . . . a second story.

A/N: In writing about Pi Day I discovered that there is actually a "pi approximation day." Apparently, 22.7 is actually a closer approximation of π than 3.14. That would make it, if you flipped the European dating system around, that July 22 is Pi Approximation Day. Thus . . . a second story.

As is always the case, I answer all feedback that comes with a respondable address. If you're not sure how to do that, check my main ff dot net page.

Set after _Thor's Chariot_ (original airdate: 7/31/98): "SG-1 returns to Cimmeria, and finds that without protection from the Asgard the planet has been invaded by the Goa'uld."

 _  
**Approximations of Why**   
_

"It's a cake."

"Yes."

"How is that something for…"

"It's 'Pi Approximation Day.'" Jack sighed, his voice tight with barely suppressed impatience.

"Yes, I know that. Or I didn't until you said, but…it's a _cake_."

"Yes, but it _looks_ like a pie. Therefore…" Jack waited, an expectant look on his face.

Finally Teal'c broke the silence. "Daniel Jackson, I believe that O'Neill is providing an _approximation_ of a pie in the form of–"

"A cake." Daniel's voice was faint. "Oh. Wow. That's…"

"Perfect, right?" Jack glanced from on to the other. "No?" He shrugged and carefully lifted his concoction from the table. Shaking his head at Daniel he headed toward the door. "Carter'll get it, she's the _bright_ one of the group!"

S J S J S J S J S J S J S J S J

Jack tapped once on the doorframe of Carter's lab, carefully balancing his . . . not pie . . . behind his back. He'd given it a great deal of thought and come to the conclusion that despite their having made a "date" of sorts a few months ago, Carter would most likely not follow through. So . . . it was up to him.

He'd waited. It was late. Really late. Or really early, depending upon your perspective. Later meant less people. Less people meant less . . . crap later. And he was all about less crap.

Jack tapped again.

At her distracted, "Come," he eased into the room and nudged the door closed behind him. The soft 'snick' of the latch engaging wasn't enough to pull her from her work, so Jack waited. Not patiently, no. That wasn't his style. But . . . self preservation and past experience had taught him that it was better to wait for her to acknowledge him than it was for him to interrupt her.

So . . . waiting.

After a while he sighed. He couldn't help it. Really, how long could one man stand there with perfectly good not-pie in his hands and with an exceptionally beautiful woman in front of him and _not_ sigh?

Not long.

"Sir?"

Jack couldn't help it. Her "how long have you been here" expression was just too . . . too . . . _engaging_ not to just chuckle. He flashed her the barest of grins and nodded, grateful that she'd finally emerged. "Carter."

He took a long step toward her table, looking for a place to set his present. Carter must have seen his look because she stood and quickly cleared off one end of the table.

"Did you need something, Colonel?"

"Nope."

"Oh." She fidgeted with a small glass tube, clearly distracted.

"Carter."

"Sir."

"Put down the tube."

"Okay." She dutifully set it aside, then paused as her hand lifted away. "Um . . . why?"

"Why?"

Now he had her attention. He knew the exact second when her focus turned from its inward attraction to him and he enjoyed knowing that he, well, _knew_. "You're asking your CO 'why,' Captain?

She straightened instantly and the perfect officer mask fell into place. "No, Colonel. Sorry. How can I help you."

Jack relented. He flashed another smile and waved her to her stool. "C'mon, Carter. I was kidding. You can always ask 'why.' In fact," he paused as he settled himself adjacent to her. "I insist."

"You do?" Sam took an absentminded sip from her coffee and grimaced. She frowned into the cup and then looked up at him. "Coffee, Colonel?"

She rose and poured them both a cup before he could answer. When she placed his before him, Jack marveled again. She made it exactly as he liked it. Just as he could do the same for her. Nice.

"So . . . today."

"Um . . . is . . . wow. Saturday."

"Yes. And . . .?"

Carter spread her hands wide. "Got me, Sir."

"Does the number twenty-two point seven ring a bell?

"N-n-ooo . . . wait. Ohhh."

Jack watched as she ducked her head. He enjoyed the blush as it crept up her neck and disappeared into her fair hair. With a gentle flourish, he produced his not-pie and set it before her.

And waited.

One long moment passed before a grin crossed her face, followed by a chuckle. This was chased by a loud burst of laughter that was echoed in the light dancing in her depthless blue eyes.

And all the air was sucked from the room. Jack couldn't breathe. Couldn't tell, for a moment, if his heart was still beating. The unalloyed pleasure on her face was something he would crawl across the desert to see again, let alone be the cause of.

He'd made Carter smile. Hell, he'd made her light up.

And she'd made his heart stop.

Bonus.

He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to say something.

"It's . . . it's an _approximation_ of a pie, isn't it, Sir?"

"It is."

"And . . . you knew that."

"I did." Jack scratched his head. "Do."

Carter turned the not-pie, rotating it to see it from all angles. She shook her head at his attempts to inscribe numbers using frosting and then swiped a finger along the base. She popped the frosted finger into her mouth and her low hum of pleasure was almost Jack's undoing.

"Uh. Plates?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Over on the bookshelf. I'll –"

"No. You enjoy. I'll be back." Jack used the movement across the room to suck some much needed air into his lungs and to get his pulse back under control. Returning to the table, he produced plastic utensils from the pockets of his BDUs and handed them over.

Carter dished them each generous slices and the two ate in silence for a few moments. Midway through her slice, Carter tipped her head and looked at him.

"What?" Jack glanced down, worried that he'd spilled.

"Why, Sir?"

"Why the pie? Or the not-pie?"

Carter shook her head. "No. Why the 'why' earlier? The thing you said, about wanting me to ask, 'why'? Insisting on it?"

"Because you asking 'why' is what you're supposed to do, Carter. You're my Second. You shouldn't question my decisions, but you shouldn't just blindly follow either. I think you're smart enough to know the difference and to know when to ask . . . 'why.'"

"Oh. Thank you." She dropped her gaze away and toyed with her fork for a moment, then glanced from her watch to the closed door before turning her eyes back to his. She met his gaze, her eyes searching his, reaching. Open and guileless.

Jack watched as she took a long, steadying breath and waited for the inevitable.

"Sir. You . . . this is something we could have done with everyone else. Teal'c, Daniel. Why wait until–"

Jack shook his head and took a last, large bite of his not-pie. He stood and brushed a few errant crumbs from his shirt. "I said you can always _ask_ , Carter. I might not always be able to answer . . . at least not the way I'd . . . or you'd . . . like, but you can _always_ ask."

"Why ask if you're not able to answer?"

"'Cause . . . well, you never know. Some things I can answer, and some things you gotta just take on faith."

"Like pi."

"Or an approximation thereof."

End.


	3. A Little Slice of Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: At end. Super huge thanks to Leiasky for the great beta and even better advice.

A/N: At end. Super huge thanks to Leiasky for the great beta and even better advice.

This comes of a conversation on GW about Teal'c being the First Shipper. Since I owe folks a "pi" story, I thought I'd kill two birds and all that.

~ o0o~

 _  
**A Little Slice of Pi(e)**   
_

~ o0o~

Earth

Colorado Springs, CO

Stargate Command

1644 SGCS (SGC Standard Time)

Teal'c paced patiently through the line, carefully selecting items from the various stations to load onto his tray. When he got to the dessert section he hesitated, wondering which of the sweet confections he would sample this evening. Captain Carter seemed quite fond of the blue gelatinous food, though O'Neill swore the red was better. Teal'c leaned closer to peer at both. Neither looked at all substantial enough to be in any way satisfying. As he had since he'd arrived, he passed over the wedged slices of pastry and fruit, leaving those for others. Just as he was about to step away, a voice called out to him.

"T! Can you snag me a slice of the apple?"

Teal'c looked across the cafeteria toward the table he normally shared with the members of his new team. He looked down at the pie selection before him, then back again at O'Neill. He reached out, but hesitated, his hand hovering over the large slice sitting there. Glancing back at O'Neill he considered his options.

O'Neill wanted pie.

From him.

Teal'c frowned slightly, not noticing the young mess Sergeant behind the counter flinching slightly and taking a step back.

His hand still poised above the slice of crumbly apple pie, Teal'c stood lost in thought. Perhaps he'd been mistaken in his assumptions. Perhaps O'Neill, like so many of the Jaffa with whom he had once served, did not in fact prefer the company of women. While the idea was not repulsive to Teal'c, it was not a feeling he shared. He wondered if somehow he had given the younger man the wrong impression of his own preferences. How could he comply with O'Neill's request without giving offense?

A Senior Airman beside him gave a gentle cough and Teal'c looked over to see the man peering past him, clearly eager to move on. Teal'c stepped aside, allowing the nervous young man room to pass. He again reached for the pie and again hesitated.

"Teal'c?" Daniel spoke up beside him. "Everything okay?"

"Daniel Jackson." Teal'c nodded in respect to the young scholar. "Indeed, everything is not . . . 'okay,' as you would say."

Daniel pushed up his glasses and stepped closer. He waved the line of waiting base personnel around them. "What's going on?"

Teal'c leaned closer and said in a low voice, "O'Neill has asked for pie." He waited, carefully watching Daniel's expression.

"Okay." Daniel looked at the pie selection and then back at Teal'c. "He likes apple, maybe you should . . . " He stopped as Teal'c shook his head.

"Daniel Jackson, I do not believe you understand. O'Neill has asked _me_ for pie." Daniel continued to stare at him blankly, and Teal'c tried again. "Until recently, O'Neill was sharing pie with Captain Carter."

"Yeees," said Daniel slowly. He looked over to where Jack sat alone at their usual table. "Um, I feel like I'm missing something here."

"I do not enjoy . . . sharing pie . . . with others." Teal'c explained.

"Oh." Still clearly puzzled, Daniel reached past Teal'c and grabbed the slice of pie and placed it on his tray. "Well, if it makes you uncomfortable, I can take care of it."

"You."

"Sure, why not?"

Teal'c tipped his head and studied Daniel's earnest face. He'd only been among the Tau'ri for one short year, but he didn't believe he had misread the situation incorrectly. He had observed the rituals that took place here, and the support staff had been very helpful in explaining certain puzzling behaviors, but this was perhaps the most confounding of all.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed as Daniel nudged him along in the line until they got to the end, then he stepped aside, waiting for Daniel to lead the way. As they approached, O'Neill looked up onto Teal'c's tray, then at his face, his expression clearly one of disappointment.

"Were they out?"

"They were not." Teal'c sat down and applied himself to his meal, surreptitiously watching the interactions around him.

"Jack," said Daniel Jackson with a minor dramatic flourish, "I present to you your pie."

Teal'c saw O'Neill glance from him to Daniel and the silent communication that passed between them. While Daniel Jackson and O'Neill did not have the same depth of communication and expression he had so often witnessed between O'Neill and Captain Carter, Teal'c could not deny that there was some level of conversation occurring. He wondered how best to approach the topic with the two men; it was his experience here among the Tau'ri that certain subjects were taboo and his instincts told him that _this_ was one of those topics. As he pondered, Captain Carter joined them.

"Hey guys, Sir," she said, acknowledging her team and O'Neill separately as she often did.

"Sam."

"Captain Carter."

"Carter." O'Neill swallowed his bit of food and gestured toward the plate. "Pie, Carter?"

Carter smiled at O'Neill and shook her head. "No thanks. I'm still full from the pie you brought in for breakfast."

Teal'c looked up, carefully keeping his expression blank. Just this morning O'Neill had offered pie to Captain Carter? Perhaps there was more to this than he understood. He glanced at the team's archaeologist, wondering how he would respond. He carefully set aside his fork, automatically freeing his hands for battle should the need arise. Captain Carter was the more capable warrior by far of the two, so it would fall to Teal'c to protect Daniel Jackson should the need arise.

Daniel glanced up from his book. "Pie for breakfast?"

Frowning into his fruit bowl, Teal'c realized that there was no tension in the younger man's voice. No hurt or anger. Perhaps the Tau'ri were more casual about their relationships that he had understood. He let himself relax somewhat.

"Sure, why not?"

Carter pulled out a chair and sat in her customary spot beside O'Neill. "Sure, Daniel. It's got apples, sugar, pastry, and you eat it with milk. Kind of like a solid bowl of cereal."

O'Neill flashed Carter a grin and turned to Daniel. "See?" He took another huge bite of his pie. "Besides, it's pi day again."

"Pi-oh. That." Daniel flicked a glance between them and shook his head. He gave a tiny shrug and returned to his book.

Teal'c resumed eating and tuned out the conversation between O'Neill and his second in command. He was still unclear about the significance of pie, but it was clear that there was some formal process involved in initiating a bonding. Apparently a designated day for it, just as the Tau'ri celebrated natal holidays. He hadn't had full access to the base last year, but in the months following O'Neill's first overtures to Captain Carter, Teal'c had seen some evidence of a deeper bonding between the pair and, he thought back, he was certain he remembered O'Neill bringing in a semblance of a pie for that occasion. The first offering to the Captain had been private, but he and Daniel Jackson had been consulted for the second. Teal'c tipped his head in thought.

Perhaps Tau'ri rituals required the participation of some outside member to formalize the process.

Perhaps O'Neill had, in his often less-than-overt manner, been asking his brother-in-arms to participate in that process.

Perhaps the overture of the soft food was merely an entree?

Teal'c once again watched the two Air Force officers as they conversed about a minor personnel issue, noting what they did _not_ say as much as what they did. Captain Carter often laid a hand on O'Neill's arm when making a point, and O'Neill in turn nudged her shoulder quite frequently. Daniel Jackson remained oblivious across from them as he read his book.

Teal'c did know, of course, that while on the premises of the SGC, the casual contact between O'Neill and Captain Carter was often almost too subtle to be seen. Off-world, however, Teal'c had seen an increase in that sort of contact. Nothing he had not seen before amongst bonded Jaffa, so therefore unremarkable to him. Teal'c studied them realizing only now how much he had come to respect and admire the two before him. How lucky he had been to have been in a place to assist O'Neill as he led the hostages and villagers from Apophis' palace. To have been so unquestionably accepted by not only O'Neill but by Captain Carter and eventually by Daniel Jackson too. To have found other kindred spirits willing to fight in concert for his cause.

And now, when O'Neill reached out to him to further his bond, Teal'c had let him down. He had let another—he hesitated to think "lesser," but certainly a less capable warrior—step into his place. It was a shameful thing to have done.

Well, no more.

Teal'c pushed aside his now empty tray and stood, his actions catching the attention of the others. He offered a low bow to first O'Neill and then to Captain Carter. "O'Neill. When the time comes for you to ask, I would be honored to partake in your ritual of pie, and . . . " he paused, hoping that he _had_ gotten it right and that O'Neill was looking for no more than someone to stand with him. "And . . . when the time comes, to be of whatever service you require."

Again he offered them both a deep, formal bow, his right hand to his left breast before giving Daniel Jackson a brief nod and leaving. He was unaware that behind him sat his teammates, mouths open in shock.

~ o0o~

Earth

Colorado Springs, CO

Stargate Command

1905 SGCS (SGC Standard Time)

A soft knock roused Teal'c from his afternoon's light meditation. "Enter."

O'Neill's tousled head poked around the edge of the door as he leaned in. "T . . . got a minute?"

"I do, indeed." Teal'c sat up and extinguished the single candle that sat before him. As he rose and flicked on the overhead lights, he wondered if O'Neill had come to ask him to participate in the next step of the bonding. And again, he hoped he had interpreted things correctly. Just to be certain, instead of returning to his perch on the edge of his bed, he sat in one of the two chairs set at the table, waving O'Neill into the other chair to sit. To his relief, O'Neill did so without complaint.

"So . . ." O'Neill scratched his head and looked around, fidgeting slightly.

Teal'c simply waited, allowing his friend to find the words in his own time. He had noticed that among the Tau'ri if one sat quietly, eventually the Tau'ri felt the need to fill the silence. Most of them, anyway. O'Neill . . . as well as Captain Carter he realized . . . never seemed to do that. Another way in which the two were compatible.

This would be a solid bonding, indeed.

Eventually O'Neill looked over at him. "Um . . . so, everything okay, Teal'c?"

"Indeed."

"Oh."

Teal'c waited a few minutes more, then realized perhaps his friend needed some assistance. After all, he had seen it in other younger men, the nerves that accompanied one when asking for a companion to stand with him at a bonding. It seemed it was up to him to ease the way. "O'Neill, have you considered what it is you will lay at Jacob Carter's feet?"

"So . . . Daniel thinks that–" O'Neill's head snapped up. He and Teal'c had spoken at the same time. "Huh?"

"I believe I once told you that is a tradition among young Jaffa warriors to place the dressed carcass of a new jemac kill at the feet of the parents of one's intended. This is to show that you are assuming the role of 'son,' and should the need arise, you will provide for them as well as for their daughter." Teal'c paused, considering for a moment. "Of course, Captain Carter is a fine warrior in her own right, so–"

"Whoa . . . what?"

Dipping his head, Teal'c caught O'Neill's eye. "I had thought it different here, but since seeing you make an offering twice to Captain Carter, I see that while the–"

"T, buddy. I think there's something–" O'Neill stopped at the soft knock on the door.

Teal'c glanced at O'Neill and then toward the door. Before he could say anything, a soft "Teal'c?" indicated who was awaiting entry. Captain Carter.

At last.

It was making sense now, Teal'c realized. The two had to come together to ask for assistance with the bonding. He nodded in satisfaction, this was as it should be with two such strong warriors. "Enter, Captain Carter."

The door opened and the woman he was quickly coming to count as a sister entered. Teal'c waved her into the room, but when she spotted O'Neill hunched on a chair, she hesitated.

"Sorry, Sir. I didn't realize–"

O'Neill stood. "No, no, it's okay, I was just–"

Teal'c watched with growing frustration as the two spoke over each other. The words of the Nox came to him and he realized how true it was, 'The very young . . . indeed.'" It was time to lead, as he had been taught. He waved Carter to a seat on the bed.

"O'Neill. Captain Carter. Perhaps now would be an appropriate time to discuss the upcoming ritual.

"Ritual?"

"Huh?"

"O'Neill, did you not initiate a bonding ritual one year ago this week involving pie?"

O'Neill's jaw dropped open and he looked from Teal'c to the Captain in shock. Before he could speak, Teal'c began again. "And did you not reinitiate the bonding a few months after that?"

"Teal'c, um," Captain Carter began, her face flushing a bright red.

Turning to her, Teal'c continued, "And did you not, Captain Carter, accept O'Neill's offering of bonding both times?"

The Captain dropped her head into her hands. "Oh, God."

Ah, progress. Perhaps they were merely reluctant to speak about this. He often forgot just how much younger these teammates of his were.

"Captain Carter," Teal'c said gently. "When you were afflicted with Broca virus, did you not seek out O'Neill?"

O'Neill and Carter stared at each other, speechlessly before Carter dropped her head back into her hands with another weak groan.

Teal'c continued, determined to help them to see. "If, as Doctor Fraiser said, the affliction led you to seek out the strongest for survival, then should you not have chosen . . . another?" He glanced quickly at O'Neill. "Do not take offence, O'Neill."

O'Neill vaguely waved a hand as he shook his head, looking thunderstruck.

Nodding with satisfaction, Teal'c turned again to Carter. "Captain–"

"Wait." Carter held up her hand. "Please."

Teal'c half-rose from his chair, afraid he had insulted his colleague. If that were the case, there was no way in which O'Neill would ask him to stand for him. Or them. Whichever practice it was in which the Tau'ri engaged. He had to repair the damage immediately. He offered O'Neill a deep bow. "O'Neill. I have done something to offend your bonded. How can I make reparations?"

O'Neill stood poleaxed. He slowly turned away from where Carter still sagged in her seat on the edge of the bed, bright red face buried in her hands, to face Teal'c. He worked his jaw for several moments, staring blankly at Teal'c, his brown eyes wide with shock. His expression was one Teal'c did not think he had ever seen on his Tau'ri friend's face.

"O'Neill?"

O'Neill sank into the chair he'd been sitting in before, his mouth still working but no words coming out. Finally he asked in a near-whisper, "Bonding?"

"Indeed."

"You got all that from . . . _pie_?"

~ o0o~

End.

~ o0o~

Author's note: Well, I hope this satisfies. This was, as I said above, the result of a discussion a few days ago on GateWorld about whether Teal'c or Daniel (or Janet) was the first Shipper. I maintain it was Teal'c, then Hammond, then Janet, but that's just me.

I'm hoping you found this funny, it was intended so.


End file.
